


Bricks in the Wall

by katling



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2839199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terrible title really but this is a collection of ficlets about my female archer rogue Inquisitor, Tegan Trevelyan, and her time with the Inquisition and her romance with Blackwall. They will not be in any particular chronological order so they'll jump around a bit. Currently rated at Teen and up but may go up later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during and after the whole revelation about Blackwall and after the judgement. I chose the freedom and atoning with the Inquisition option for this one.

As she stalked through the market at Val Royeaux, Tegan found herself wondering what the execution of the man Mornay could have to do with Blackwall. It was a question she’d been asking herself ever since she’d woken up to find him gone and been given the piece of paper by Leliana’s agent. That night had been… something else. It hadn’t been the first time they’d made love but the sheer passion in it on his part had been a revelation. It had been a goodbye she’d realised when she’d found his note and ascertained he was nowhere to be found in Skyhold. Even now, the ache in her heart was a tangible pain. Why had he left? What had he meant by those last words he’d said? She had no answers, only speculation and worry.

A small crowd stood in front of the gibbet, chattering and gossiping, and Tegan and her friends joined them silently. As matters progressed along their inevitable and tragic path, there seemed to be no answers here… at least until Blackwall walked up onto the platform and started talking. 

And then her world fell apart.

When he announced he was Thom Rainier, her knees actually buckled underneath her and she might well have fallen if Cassandra and Dorian hadn’t grabbed her arms. Instead she swayed in their grasp, her gaze locked with that of Blackw… Rainier as he finished speaking. Then he turned and walked off with the guards.

The crowd dispersed in the wake of the commotion, a few of them shooting the small group curious looks before they were sent on their way by a combination of Cassandra’s steely glare and the Iron Bull’s low growl. They were far more concerned with Tegan, who was as pale as a ghost and as silent as the grave.

“Tegan,” Cassandra began and the sound of her name – her actual _name_ and not ‘Inquisitor’ from the Seeker – seemed to shake the archer out of her shock.

She shook off Cassandra and Dorian’s hands and turned without a word, heading for the prison. The wait to get inside and see Blackw… _Rainier_ seemed interminable. It took all of Cassandra’s powers of persuasion but finally she was allowed in and she stalked down the corridor to his cell. He was sitting there, hunched over, a broken man, and her heart ached in spite of the simmering anger, the shock, the sense of betrayal. She also realised, with a shock of surprise, that she still loved him and it was that alone which tempered her words as they spoke.

The conversation was as painful as she’d expected and when she emerged from the cells, she almost didn’t notice Cullen standing there. He’d obviously followed them, whether on his own recognisance or at the suggestion of Leliana, she didn’t know. She didn’t much care either. She wanted to rant, to rage, to take her feelings out on _someone_ when she saw the report Leliana had on Rainier but there was no point. Cullen was right. How could anyone have connected Blackwall with Rainier?

“Get him out,” was all she had to say and she nodded a curt acknowledgement of Cullen’s reply.

She stalked out of the prison, barely noticing when the others formed up next her. The trip out of Val Royeaux was silent, devoid of the usual chatter between the others. Tegan barely noticed, too caught up in her inner turmoil.

They stopped to camp as the sun set and once the camp was set, Tegan wandered off and found a quiet place to sit. From there, she could hear the sound of desultory chat between her friends. She ignored it. She knew they were worried about her and she appreciated it but this was her problem to solve.

She was so caught up in her tumultuous thoughts and emotions that she didn’t notice Dorian had joined her until he held out a plate and spoke.

“You must eat, my dear.”

Tegan gave a start and stared at him blankly for a moment before looking down at the food he was offering, not much more than bread and cheese and a piece of fruit. Her stomach roiled and she shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“I rather thought you might not be so I kept it simple,” Dorian said. “Still, you should eat.” He set the plate down near her feet but far enough away that there was no risk she might kick it. 

“I…” she began and now, finally, she felt the tears well in her eyes. She clenched her hands into fists then gasped when Dorian took one and uncurled it before grasping it. “Dorian, I…” There was no stopping the tears now and for once Dorian refrained from any comments and simply drew her into an embrace. She clutched at him and wept, finding a catharsis in the tears that her anger and shock had not provided.

When the storm of tears finally subsided, Dorian cupped her face in his hands and used his thumbs to wipe away the last of them. He gave a small smile. “You look terrible, my dear. You simply don’t have the complexion for crying.”

The comments drew a small laugh from Tegan and she smiled wanly. “My mother always said the same thing.”

“Wise woman.”

Tegan sighed and leaned against the mage. “What am I going to do, Dorian?”

“That is a rather complex question,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I suppose the first thing to ask is how do you feel about him now?”

“I… I still love him,” she admitted. “I’m angry that he lied. I feel… betrayed. But I still love him. Stupid, yeah?”

“Hardly,” Dorian replied. “You fell in love with the man he is now, not the one he was years ago when he made that decision. Does it matter whether he calls himself Blackwall or Thom Rainier? He’s still the same man. All that’s really changed is that you know about his past.” He paused for a moment before continuing delicately, “I’m… assuming he didn’t kill the real Blackwall?”

Tegan shook her head. “The real Blackwall had recruited him for the Grey Wardens but died in an attack by Darkspawn before he could go through the Joining. He said that he took Blackwall’s name so that a good man didn’t have to die.”

“And then did his best to live up to Blackwall’s legacy,” Dorian mused. “That’s… quite noble really. It also explains why he never seemed to be affected by this false Calling the way the real Grey Wardens were. He wasn’t a real Grey Warden.”

Tegan nodded and stared down at her hands. “Do you remember what the Nightmare said to him in the Fade?”

Dorian frowned. “Not really. I was trying not to pay attention to the great booming voice of doom and gloom.”

A tiny smile curved Tegan’s lips then it disappeared again. “There is nothing like a Grey Warden and you are _nothing_ like a Grey Warden.”

Both Dorian’s eyebrows went up. He _had_ quite honestly not been paying much attention to what the Nightmare had been saying. He’d been concentrating more on staying alert for the little fears that had been attacking them than what it had said to Blackwall or any of the others.

“Well… in hindsight, that was rather pointed of it.”

“I think we all ignored it because who in their right mind listens to a demon,” Tegan said wanly. “And it was trying to get at all of us. Blackwall… Rainier hardly blinked.”

“I’d imagine it wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought himself,” Dorian replied dryly. “It came from _his_ mind, _his_ nightmares after all.” He cocked his head to one side and decided to get down to the nitty-gritty of things. “What do you intend to do once you get him back to Skyhold? I’m assuming that’s what you’ve ordered our good Commander to do.”

“I have and I… don’t know,” Tegan admitted.

“He will be yours to judge.”

“I know.”

Dorian tightened his arm around her shoulders for a moment. “It seems to me that the man has spent years atoning for his sins. It’s worth taking that into consideration.”

Tegan looked at him curiously. “I thought you didn’t like him. You needle him enough.”

Dorian looked surprised then he smiled wryly. “I… well, I didn’t at first. These uptight noble self-sacrificing sorts always set my teeth on edge but since I’ve gotten to know him… you do insist on dragging us out into the Maker-forsaken wilderness together all the time… I’ve changed my mind a bit.”

“You don’t mind that he… lied?”

“Ah, my dear, who amongst us hasn’t told a lie?” Dorian said expansively. “Or kept things about ourselves secret?” He raised an eyebrow significantly. “The question is can _you_ forgive him for lying to you?”

“I…” Tegan looked deep within herself and was almost surprised to find an answer there. “I think I already have. I think I forgave him when I spoke to him in the prison. He was so… broken, Dorian.”

“The man called Blackwall whom we know is a good man,” Dorian said quietly. “He is a hard worker, a fierce fighter and a man who loves you with all his heart. Yes, he made a dreadful error in judgement when he was young and arrogant. An error that has clearly haunted him ever since. He regrets it, feels guilt for it, has tried to atone for it. Those are not the actions of a bad man – a bad man would never feel regret – simply one attempting to deal with the consequences of his own actions.” He raised an eyebrow again. “Though I can’t say I agree with his decision to simply sneak off in the night the way he did. I’m sure he thought it would be easier for you and for everyone but I daresay he wasn’t thinking very clearly.”

Tegan drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. She felt calmer inside, more settled and sure of herself again. “I think I know what I’m going to do.”

“Good,” Dorian said. He gave her a nudge. “Now eat before you end up with Cassandra over here, acting the mother hen.” He paused dramatically. “Then again, don’t eat. I’d pay good money to see that.”

Tegan laughed softly and reached for the plate. She still didn’t feel very hungry but Dorian was right. She needed to eat.

******

The judgement was over and in the minor hubbub of Blackwall having his shackles removed and being lead off to get cleaned up, Tegan had retreated to her quarters. She was still shaking from the whole thing and while she knew they needed to talk privately, she needed time to recover.

She splashed some water on her face and then walked out onto the balcony, raising her head and letting the cool mountain air wash over her. She hadn’t expected the declaration he’d made there in the hall, in front of everyone, but she’d welcomed it. She knew there were things they needed to talk about, trust that needed to be re-established and none of that was going to be easy but the foundations were apparently still solid and that was all she needed to know for now. The rest she could deal with as it came.

“Tegan.”

She turned at the hoarse sound of his voice. He was standing in the doorway, dressed much as he always had been. His hair was still wet from his bath but his beard had been trimmed into its usual neat shape. He looked as if he’d never been gone, as if the great revelation had never occurred. Until you looked into his eyes, that was. In those eyes lay an ocean of regret and pain and hesitance… and love.

She opened her mouth then closed it again. “What do I call you now?”

He looked down at the floor. “I thought I would stick with Blackwall. Could think of it as a title, like Inquisitor.” Now he looked up and the hesitance in his eyes had taken on a strange glint that had Tegan taking a step towards him. “You could… call me Thom, if you wanted.”

She closed the distance between them and caressed his cheek. He leaned into the touch and brought one hand up with cover hers.

“You haven’t been Thom Rainier in a long time,” she said softly. “You’re Blackwall.”

It was the right thing to say because it was the truth. Perhaps Thom Rainier, the man who had ordered those killings, had died when the original Blackwall had recruited him or perhaps it had been during the Darkspawn attack that had cost the original Blackwall his life or perhaps it had been some time in the long years afterward. All Tegan knew was that the man standing in front of her wasn’t that man, wasn’t _Thom Rainier_ , any more. He was the man he’d striven to become. He was Blackwall. Maybe not the man the original Blackwall had been but she didn’t think the Warden would mind sharing his name with the man Rainier had become. As she watched, all the tension just flowed out of Blackwall and he lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers.

“I should have told you the truth,” he whispered. “If not when you were named Inquisitor then when we… got together.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was afraid,” he admitted painfully as he brought one hand up to cradle her face. “I was afraid of losing you.”

“You haven’t,” she whispered.

“No, I haven’t,” he said in a tone of wonder before slowly closing the remaining distance between them and kissing her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was running with both Blackwall and Cassandra in my party and after the revelation and judgement of Blackwall, boy howdy, does Cassandra get cold and hostile towards him. She does mellow eventually but this is set earlier in the hostility.

Tegan was in the war room, staring down at the map and attempting to prioritise the myriad of tasks and requests they had in front of them when she heard the door open and close. She assumed it was one of her advisors and didn’t look up until the person spoke.

“You do not approve of my treatment of Blackwall, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said in a studiously neutral tone of voice.

Tegan winced and stared down at the map, now not seeing anything on it. She had a feeling she knew what had brought this on. The glare she’d levelled at Cassandra after the Seeker’s cold dismissal of Blackwall when they’d been out in the Exalted Plains, just after the whole revelation and her judgement, had been, in Dorian’s words, utterly _scorching_. 

Not that she’d said anything to Cassandra at the time or even since then, even when the Seeker’s coldness and hostility towards Blackwall persisted. The scorching glare had been something of a kneejerk reaction before she’d gotten herself under control. She’d known that her friends might not react well to everything that had happened and that she had to respect that, even if she didn’t like it. But it hurt. She and Cassandra had been close to being friends and now she didn’t know where they stood. Which was, she’d admit, mostly her fault since she’d been keeping her distance a bit from the Seeker, not wanting to say something idiotic. Cassandra and Blackwall had to sort this out for themselves.

“I… my approval or otherwise doesn’t matter,” she said, matching Cassandra’s neutral tone of voice.

“Yet I see you doubting me.”

“I don’t doubt you,” Tegan replied, finally looking up from the map. “I worry. Or I did worry. But... I don’t anymore.”

Cassandra frowned. “You worried? About what?”

Tegan grimaced then decided to forge ahead bluntly. Cassandra had always favoured being honest and, well, she could do that. “About whether I could trust you to watch his back in a fight.”

She saw the way the Seeker reared back with an offended expression. “I would _never_ …” Cassandra began heatedly.

Tegan held up one hand. “I _know_!” She sighed wearily. “I know, Cassandra. One advantage of being an archer is you see the battlefield. Nothing has changed in the way you fight and the thought was unworthy of me and of you from the very beginning. I just…” She rubbed her forehead. “I was just being… stupid.”

“Yet you still dislike the way I have been treating him,” Cassandra said.

Tegan sighed and leaned on the table with both hands. “Yes, I do. But it’s not my job to make you all play nicely with each other. You’re all adults after all. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself and it seems to work most of the time.”

“He _lied_ to us. To _you_.” The contempt was quite plain in Cassandra’s words.

Tegan looked up, her expression serious. “Yes, he did. And Cassandra, if you’re angry at him on my behalf… well, that’s very nice of you because Maker knows not many people have ever done something like that for me but you don’t have to do that. I can accept you being angry at him for your own personal reasons but I’ve forgiven him so I don’t need anyone being angry at him on my behalf.”

Cassandra frowned, as much in curiosity as anger. “You’ve… forgiven him?”

Tegan raised an eyebrow wryly. “Well, you see, Cassandra, Blackwall and I have _talked_ about all of this. His past, what happened, everything. So I know what went on and why he did what he did and how and why he changed. We’ve talked, he’s apologised for hurting me and I’ve forgiven him.”

“You think I am being unreasonable.” Cassandra’s chin went up again.

Tegan sighed. “No. I think you have a right to be angry at him. I was at first. But, Cassandra, you changed your mind about me after hearing the evidence that pointed towards my innocence, why not give him the same opportunity?”

“ _He_ is not innocent.”

“No, he isn’t,” Tegan replied. “But would executing him have really achieved anything? He’s spent his life atoning for what he did, Cassandra. He intends to continue doing that. He’s not the man he once was.”

“He hid behind the Grey Wardens, _using_ them as cover.”

Tegan cocked her head slightly. “Did he? Did he really?”

“What do you mean?”

“He said he was a Warden, that’s true enough, but you make it sound like he was using them for selfish reasons. He took Blackwall’s name so that a good man didn’t have to die. He’s spent his life trying to live up to what he knew and understood of Blackwall’s legacy, trying to do good, protect the people. A selfish man might do that for a while as a means of hiding and dissuading pursuit but a selfish man’s inherent nature is eventually going to come out and he _would_ use the Wardens the way you’re thinking. Not Blackwall though.”

She shook her head and looked down at the map, focusing on where they’d met Blackwall in the Hinterlands. “In fact, he barely ever went near the Grey Wardens. True, part of that is because some of them would know he wasn’t the real Blackwall but not all of them. The real Blackwall had quite the reputation among the Grey Wardens. Many of them would have followed where he lead. If he’d wanted, he could have done some real damage with them. _If_ he was a selfish, arrogant man, a _bad_ man.”

She looked up at Cassandra again. “Instead, he wandered alone, protecting people as best as he could. Yes, he traded on the reputation of the Wardens but we both know that’s a bit of a gamble when there isn’t a Blight. Wardens aren’t always welcome in quiet times. We all want them around when there’s an Archdemon to slay but we tend to forget about them and dismiss them when there’s not.” She waved a hand. “But that’s a little bit beside the point. If Blackwall used the Wardens, it was only as a… distraction. Say you’re a Warden and people stop asking questions. They accept you for what you are. Wardens are Wardens, after all.”

She winced, remembering the events of Adamant. “Well, that’s the way they have been. You know what I mean.”

Cassandra looked thoughtful. “You have considered all of this, haven’t you?”

Tegan snorted. “Did you think I’d forgiven him just because I wanted to get into his pants again? I mean, I’ll admit the sex is good but I’m not _that_ shallow, Cassandra.”

“I know,” Cassandra replied with a small glare. “But you are in love with him and people do sometimes forgive too easily when they are in love.”

“I didn’t need to forgive him for what he did,” Tegan said bluntly. “I didn’t know him then. I didn’t know Thom Rainier and I never will. I didn’t know the people who were killed. It was a terrible act committed by an arrogant and ambitious man but all I needed to know was that he regretted it, felt remorse for his actions and wanted to atone for it. That he wasn’t that man anymore. That he would _never_ do something like that again. I have his word on all of that and I believe it. His actions since he joined the Inquisition have backed that up.”

She leaned on the table again. “What I had to forgive was the lies and that was both easy and… not very easy at all. It was easy because I saw him in that cell, Cassandra. I saw that broken man, torn apart by the lies he’d told and thinking he had lost _everything_ that mattered to him. Thinking he had lost _me_. There was no deceit about him there, Cassandra. However it’s… not easy because the trust has to be rebuilt and we’re still working on that. I doubt him sometimes, even now. But he is honest with me, even when I think he’d rather lie to spare my feelings.” She smiled wanly. “He knows how much he hurt me and he has vowed to never do that again. I think we both know that we’ll inevitably hurt each other. That just happens in relationships. But we’re working on it.”

Cassandra looked less sure of herself, even a little worried. “I… didn’t know.”

“It’s not like we wave it around for all to see,” Tegan replied dryly. “Love doesn’t solve everything. It might provide a foundation but you’ve got to work on the rest of it.”

“You have given me much to think about,” Cassandra said, looking rather thoughtful, much to Tegan’s relief.

“I’m not saying you have to automatically forgive him just because I say so or because I have,” she said. “Just… _talk_ to him. Give him a chance to explain.” Her expression turned slightly amused. “I don’t know… get him out on the field and wallop at each other with swords. Whatever it is you fighters do while we prissy archers are staying out of the way.”

She _almost_ got a smile out of Cassandra for that. “Perhaps I will do that. I am… glad we are not at odds.”

“Nah,” Tegan said with a good approximation of her normal easy manner. “As I said, we’re all adults here and I don’t expect everyone to like everyone else. Just… no pitched battles in the corridors, yeah? It upsets Josephine.”

Cassandra looked faintly amused then inclined her head and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set after the first trip to Val Royeaux and In Hushed Whispers but before In Your Heart Shall Burn, so there's been a bit of flirting between them and Blackwall... is noticing her.

He doesn’t know _when_ he started looking but it was Dorian who pointed out that he _was_ looking as they were walking through the Hinterlands, searching for a rift that the locals had reported to the Inquisition troops at the Crossroads.

“Lovely day, isn’t it, Blackwall,” the Tevinter mage said with a wicked grin. “Such a magnificent view.”

It was only when Dorian said those words that Blackwall realised he was staring at Tegan’s arse… and had been for several minutes now. He tore his eyes away and looked over at the other man, only to find Dorian looking back at him with impish amusement. Beyond Dorian, he could see Solas attempting to hide a smile of his own. Only Tegan was oblivious to the double meaning to Dorian’s words, much to his relief, being far too intent on where they were going to be paying much attention to those with her.

“It is,” Blackwall growled, trying to intimidate the Tevinter mage with a glare. It didn’t work as all Dorian did was chuckle.

Tegan chose that moment to bend over and strip the leaves from an elfroot plant and Blackwall found his eyes drawn inexorably back to that most delectable part of her anatomy that he’d been staring at earlier. He tore his eyes away almost as soon as he looked and found Dorian eying him with interest this time. The mage slowed his pace somewhat and Blackwall matched him, not really knowing why but unable to stop himself.

“You should say something to her,” Dorian said quietly enough that Tegan couldn’t hear them. “I doubt it would be unwelcome.”

Blackwall growled softly and glowered. “She deserves better than me.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that for her to decide?”

Blackwall looked away, bile rising in his throat as it always did when he thought of actually following through on the flirting he and Tegan had been doing. He wanted that. Oh, _Maker_ , how he wanted that. The woman was beautiful and smart and sharp as a whip and so far out of his league, even when he hadn’t been a broken down false Warden. But every time she directed that gamine grin of hers at him and made some witty, sly comment, he wanted to shove her against the nearest solid surface and kiss the grin and comment away until the only thing she was saying, breathing, _screaming_ , was his name.

But it wouldn’t be _his_ name she’d be screaming, would it? And if she knew his name, she’d be cursing him instead.

“She deserves someone better,” he said roughly. “Someone younger, someone… who isn’t a Warden. I can’t give her a future.”

“You’re assuming we _have_ a future,” Dorian said dryly.

Blackwall glared at him. “You think we’re going to fail?”

“I think we’re going to do our best but no one can predict the future,” Dorian replied, ignoring the glare. “And she and I… we saw the future that happens if we fail.” He raised an eyebrow. “A little happiness _now_ seems like a damn good thing to me.”

“And if we succeed?”

Dorian shrugged. “Then you cross that bridge when you come to it.” He gave Blackwall another of those arch amused looks. “One thing I do know, Blackwall, is that she is a very determined woman and if she decides she’s not going to put up with your excuses any more, you’re either going to have to give in or run.” He smirked. “I’d suggest giving in. It’s the better option. She’ll just chase you down if you run.”

Blackwall’s reply was cut off by Tegan’s shout. He looked over to find her grinning at them and gesturing towards the familiar green glowing shape through the trees. She was already unlimbering her bow and he bit off a curse, drawing his sword and readying his shield as he ran to catch up to her before she could leap into action. The last time she’d done that without waiting for the rest of them, she’d been forced to run in circles before he could draw the attention of the demons away from her. Damn woman was going to drive him crazy with her antics.

He heard the sizzle of lightning bolts arcing over his head from Dorian and the strange hum of Solas’ barrier forming around him as he ran towards the demons spilling out of the rift, a battle cry on his lips to taunt them into concentrating on him. He was glad of the fight. It let him escape Dorian’s words and his own treacherous thoughts. He was there to protect the Herald and nothing else. There _was_ nothing else. There could _be_ nothing else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set during In Your Heart Shall Burn, basically from when they finished setting the trebuchet until they get to the camp.

They were halfway back to the Chantry before they realised that Tegan wasn’t with them. They’d been successful in setting the last of the trebuchets but the appearance of the dragon… or possibly archdemon… had sent them running. All but Tegan. Blackwall came to a halt, staring back the way they’d come. He could see the dragon in the distance, standing between them and the trebuchet, where the Herald presumably still was.

Someone caught his arm and he turned to see Dorian looking at him with despair. “Don’t be a fool, man. You know the plan was for her to get his attention. We’d only be in the way.”

Blackwall wanted to snarl at the Tevinter mage, wanted to go back to help, to protect, to do _something_ but he knew the other man was right. He shook off the hand on his arm but obediently turned and continued running towards the Chantry. Cullen was waiting for them at the door and his face dropped when he saw who was missing then became very bleak, perhaps even as bleak as Blackwall’s.

“Go,” Cullen urged. “Through the Chantry.”

Blackwall kept running. A glance over his shoulder showed him the Commander staring out into the ruins of the village before finally pulling the door shut and following them. The finality in the clang of the closing door sent a shudder through Blackwall. He pushed his thoughts away remorselessly, concentrating instead on getting out, helping people, lifting, carrying, pushing… anything but thinking of the woman they’d left behind to face the Elder One and the dragon.

He didn’t stop until they’d made camp high in the mountains and only then because Solas caught his arm and led him over to one of the campfires. The others Tegan had recruited were sitting there as well, all as quiet and as lost to their own thoughts as he was. But he noticed that all of them were alert still. All of them would glance occasionally in the direction of Haven. All of them were waiting to see if their Herald had survived.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed when the shout went up and then… there she was. She was limping and exhausted, being half-carried by Cullen and Cassandra, the mark on her hand glowing brightly but she was alive. Blackwall’s knees almost gave out on him and he was caught by Dorian.

“Quite the woman,” the Tevinter mage said without a trace of mockery. “You’re a lucky man.”

The mage saw him steadied and then stepped away without another word. Blackwall was unable to summon a reply. All he could do was watch as Mother Giselle came forward and escorted Tegan to one of the tents. Blackwall wanted to go to her but what could he do? She didn’t need a sword right now, just a healer and time to rest.

He turned back to the fire with a lighter heart though and he saw the others were in much the same state. Whereas before there had been gloomy looks and desultory conversation, now there were smiles and the familiar banter was starting up again.

Finally he could stand it no longer. He got to his feet and slipped away from the fire, not noticing the amused looks from the others. He made his way to the tent where Tegan had been taken but came to a halt before could get too close. Tegan was lying on a cot and seemed to be arguing with Mother Giselle about whether she could get up or not. Blackwall couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. Damned crazy woman. Dropped half a mountain on herself and still argued with those healing her.

Then Mother Giselle turned and saw him. He almost withdrew but she beckoned him closer.

“Perhaps you will have more success than I,” she said with exasperation. “Please convince her to stay here while I fetch what I need.”

The Chantry mother stalked away and Blackwall looked over at the archer who was even now starting to sit up.

“I think you should listen to her.”

“I’m fine,” Tegan said with a wince that gave the lie to her words.

“Bullshit,” Blackwall replied bluntly.

“Such language,” Tegan said with another wince. “My mother would wash your mouth out with soap and water.”

“So would mine.” He closed the gap between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Herald… Tegan… lie down. There’s nothing you can do now that isn’t already being done.”

“I…” Tegan began then she finished sitting up, turned rather green and gingerly lay down again. “Okay.”

Blackwall chuckled softly and took a seat on the low stool next to the bed. “Damn fool woman. I think you’ve earned a little rest.”

“I… I have to make sure Cassandra and the others know what we’re up against,” she said plaintively. “It’s kind of important.”

Blackwall turned enough to see the four leaders of the Inquisition standing not far away, talking quietly. He caught Leliana’s eye and gestured for them to come over.

“Here,” he said, turning back to Tegan. “Now they’re coming to you and you can tell them and get some damn rest.”

He made to rise but stopped when Tegan caught his hand.

“Stay?” she asked with a blush and a pleading look that he could only stare at. “Please?”

He nodded, suddenly unable to find any words. He sank down onto the stool and stared down to where she was still holding his hand. He closed his large calloused hand around hers and watched as she smiled and sighed.

“Herald?” Cassandra said as she came up beside Blackwall. She looked down at their joined hands and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I have a lot to tell you and I want to do it now before I forget anything and before Mother Giselle bludgeons me to sleep,” Tegan said, shifting and trying to sit up. Blackwall moved quietly and placed a bedroll behind her and she smiled wanly at him in thanks as he took his seat and her hand again.

“Of course,” Leliana said with the faintest of smiles on her face as she looked on. “Though I think Mother Giselle would be far more subtle than a bludgeon.”

Tegan gave a tired approximation of her normal grin. “I think she’ll make an exception for me.” She sighed. “He’s got a name, this Elder One. Corypheus.”

Leliana and the others suddenly became all business and listened intently as Tegan wearily described everything she’d seen and heard during her confrontation with the Elder One. Blackwall did as well but his attention was more on the woman speaking than the words being said. He was a damn fool to encourage this but… she had wanted him here and fool that he was, what she wanted was more important.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set at an indeterminate time after they get to Skyhold but before Blackwall's big revelation.
> 
> Tegan struggles with her role as Inquisitor. Blackwall helps. Sort of.

Tegan sat at her desk in her quarters and glared down at the report she’d been attempting to read. It was a report on the distribution of their troops throughout Orlais and Fereldan and she’d understood about a third of it. Which was frustrating her because she felt like she ought to understand _all_ of it. It wasn’t like Cullen hid everything in a great deal of technical terms. It was just… outside her experience.

“Are you reading that or trying to set it on fire with your eyes?”

She looked up in surprise to see Blackwall leaning against the balustrade at the top of the stairs.

“Blackwall! I didn’t hear you come in,” she said then she blushed. “I mean… I’m glad you’re here. I just…”

Blackwall chuckled and came over to her desk. He leaned against it and picked up the report. “I knocked.”

Tegan sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I guess I was just… distracted.”

“Can I help at all, my lady?”

Tegan blushed a little at the endearment. It never _failed_ to make her blush, no matter where they were or what they were doing. 

“I can’t make head nor tail of that report,” she said plaintively.

Blackwall read through the report quickly then looked at her curiously. “It’s not…”

“Complex,” she said with a sigh. “I know. I just get lost somewhere at the start of the second page.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just not good at this.”

“At what?” Blackwall asked, putting the report down.

“Being a leader,” Tegan replied. “I just… feel like I’m making mistake after mistake.”

“You’re doing a fine job,” he said, holding out one hand to her.

She took his hand and let him draw her away from the desk and over to the couch. She was more than willing to be drawn down into his embrace and she sighed and snuggled against him comfortably.

“Now, love, why would you think you’re not doing well as our leader?”

She smiled a little at this endearment. He was always doing that. Calling her ‘love’ and ‘my lady’ and checking she was alright after a battle. He made her feel safe and cared for every day. Then he made he feel loved and desired and _wanted_ whenever they shared a bed. She’d freely admit she revelled in it.

“Maker knows I’ve got no bloody experience,” she said with exasperation. “And I’m not sure how having a strange green mark on my hand makes me qualified for the job.”

“You’re from a noble family,” Blackwall said with a small frown. “Did you parents not give you any training?”

Tegan winced and curled into Blackwall’s embrace a little more. “I… wasn’t exactly a model child.”

Blackwall chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Really?”

“I’m the youngest of six,” she explained. “Three brothers and two sisters and I was… sort of a late born child. There’s ten years between me and my next oldest sibling and nearly twenty years between me and my oldest brother. My parents weren’t exactly planning on having any more children so when I came along, they were… a bit taken by surprise.”

“They weren’t unhappy, surely?” Blackwall said with a hint of a growl in his voice.

Tegan looked up at him and smiled. “No, they were more than happy to have me. It’s just… they had five children between the ages of twenty and ten and were busy dealing with everything that came with having older children. They didn’t love me any less, they just… didn’t have as much time. So I was usually left with the nurse and I…” She blushed a little. “I didn’t really like her so I used to... act up a bit.”

Blackwall chuckled. “A little hellion, were you?”

“A bit,” Tegan admitted with a shy smile. “And when I got older and the nurse was no longer needed, well, all my siblings were busy being scions of the family and whatnot. My parents were always talking about how proud they were and how much I had to live up to and I… just always felt so inadequate.”

“Don’t tell me… you got a little rebellious.”

Tegan groaned in embarrassment and shifted around so that she was straddling his lap. He smiled at her and rested his hands on her hips.

“Am I that predictable?”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard of that sort of thing,” Blackwall admitted.

Tegan leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. “I was a terror. It’s a wonder my parents didn’t disown me when I was a teenager. I did settle down a little after a couple of incidents brought me to the attention of the City Guard but… I wasn’t at the Conclave because I wanted to be. I was there because I played a practical joke on one of my sisters-in-law that went slightly wrong and my parents deemed it prudent to get me out of the house for a time until my sister-in-law and brother calmed down and stopped threatening to string my up by my toes. The local Chantry was calling for people to act as guards and escorts for the clerics so they signed me up.”

Blackwall stared at her as if ascertaining she was telling the truth and then he chuckled. “And now you’re the Inquisitor.”

Tegan laughed helplessly. “Yes. A woefully unprepared Inquisitor at that.”

He cupped her face with one hand. “You _are_ doing well.”

“I don’t feel like it,” she admitted. “Cullen and Leliana and Josephine look to me to make all these decisions and sometimes every option sounds good and I choose one and…” She sighed. “…and sometimes it goes well and sometimes we lose people and I’m starting to hate it.”

“That’s the way it goes, love,” Blackwall said gently. “You make the best decision you can based on the information you have at hand and you hope like hell it works out. Sometimes it will and sometimes it won’t. It doesn’t make you a bad leader. Just a human one.”

“There has to be something better.”

Blackwall shook his head. “Have your advisors ever had any recriminations for you over those missions that lose people?”

She paused then shook her head. “No, they’re always regretful but they’ve never blamed me.”

“Nor will they,” he said firmly. “They know that sometimes these things happen, even when you have the best of intentions.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’ve lead men before,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’ve felt exactly how you’re feeling now.”

“I thought you were recruiting for the Wardens.”

Blackwall’s expression became guarded. It wasn’t the first time and while she’d often wanted to ask why, she never had. He’d tell her, she was sure of it, and she could wait patiently in the meantime. “I haven’t always done that. I’ve commanded troops in battle before.”

“In the Blight?” Tegan asked.

Blackwall hesitated then nodded. “Aye, there and other places.”

“Does it get easier?” she asked plaintively.

“Yes and no,” he replied, caressing her cheek. “You get more used to giving orders but you never get used to losing people.”

She leaned into his touch. “Ugh, I was hoping for a different answer.”

“I wish I could give one to you, love, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

She sighed. “I know.”

Blackwall pulled her closer and slid his hand into her hair. “I can’t make your job easier but I can help in other ways.”

She smiled as she was pressed close to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. “Oh, really?” she purred. “What did you have in mind?”

He grinned at her and picked her up, swallowing her yelp with a kiss. “Oh, I’ll come up with something,” he said as he carried her towards the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set the morning after the events of chapter 1. I mentioned in the piece with Cassandra in Chapter 2 that Tegan and Blackwall talked. This is the first part of those talks they had.

Tegan woke slowly, feeling warm and comfortable as she lay in Blackwall’s embrace, her back tight against his chest, feeling the soft puffs of his breathing against her neck. She could tell from the way he was breathing and the tension in his arms and body behind her that he was already awake and dreading her reaction. She supposed it wasn’t unexpected. Perhaps, if she was a different person, maybe a better one, she wouldn’t have taken him straight back into her bed, would have made him earn his place there again.

But she wasn’t that person. Never had been. They had a myriad of things they needed to talk about, issues they needed to work out but there was one thing she was certain of in all the mess of the last few weeks – she loved him and he loved her. It wasn’t a panacea for all that had happened but it was a base to build on. It was a reason to rebuild what they’d had before his past had come flooding back. Love couldn’t solve everything but it could motivate.

“My lady? Tegan?” he murmured, his voice gruff with sleep.

She rolled over in his arms and smiled. It wasn’t her usual smile, a gamine grin full of mischief inviting the one it was aimed at to join in; it was a little sad, a lot weary but far more genuine.

“Should I… should I go?” he asked and she could see all the old insecurity and more in his eyes. The revelations about his past had shattered parts of him, perhaps irrevocably.

“No,” she said, pressing close to him and sighing with satisfaction when his arms tightened around her. “Stay.”

He made a small sound that might have been relief and might even have been a sob. Most of the tension flowed out of him and he rested his forehead against hers. She brought one hand up to caress his cheek before sliding her fingers into his beard as she loved to do. He leaned into her touch, his eyes sliding closed. 

“I don’t want you to lie to me anymore,” she whispered. “Please don’t lie to me again.”

“Never again,” he promised, opening his eyes so she could see the fervent truth in them.  
But, my lady… Tegan…”

“No,” she said, placing her fingers over his lips. “Whatever you’ve done, whatever lurks in your past, whatever it is, don’t lie to me about it. Tell me you don’t want to talk about it. Tell me _why_ you don’t want to talk about it. But don’t lie to me.”

She felt him shudder then he nodded. “Yes. I swear I will never lie to you again.”

She was silent for a moment then she asked the question she had to know the answer to. He’d mentioned it but she needed to know the answer in full now, when the heat was out of the moment.

“Did you know? That the children were there?”

The pain in his eyes was _indescribable_ and for a moment she wished she hadn’t asked. But she had to know. She _needed_ to know.

“No,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice full of pain and self-loathing. “I didn’t. I swear to you I didn’t know Callier’s children were with him. And by the time I realised… it was too late.” He made a pained sound. “Maker… Tegan… if I’d known…” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I was a callous, arrogant man back then but if I’d known the children were there, I’d have called the whole thing off, I swear.”

A shattered sounding cry escaped him and she pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders. He buried his face in her neck and sobbed, horrible, wracking, tearing sobs that brought tears to her eyes in response. She wondered if he’d ever wept for what he’d done before now. From the sound of it, she didn’t think so. He’d wrapped the guilt and grief around him and worn them like sackcloth and ashes but never given in to them. Never given himself the luxury of letting them out, of lancing the festering sore they’d created inside him.

So she held him and ran her hands through his hair and let him cry, let him take that first tiny step towards healing from what he’d done. She could forgive him, others could forgive him but he would never heal until he could forgive himself. She didn’t think he was going to be able to do that any time soon, no matter what was happening now.

When his tears finally tapered off, they simply lay there, Blackwall cradled in her arms, his face buried in her neck. His shuddering breaths gusted across her skin and his beard scratched at her collarbone.

“I forgive you,” she said, running her hand through his hair.

He gave a start and shoved himself up on one arm. He looked down at her with disbelief. “What? I… _How_ …”

She pulled him back down and waited until he’d settled again, though he was tense and shivering as he did.

“I can’t forgive you for what happened to Callier and his family,” she said quietly. “No one can except for Callier’s relatives and yourself. I can’t forgive you for taking Blackwall’s identity. That’s between you and your memory of Blackwall and whether you think he’d find that acceptable. Those parts of your past aren’t things that need forgiving from me. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t involved.” 

She tilted his head up so she could look at him. “But I can and do forgive you for lying to me. I know you had your reasons and one of the biggest ones was because you feared losing me. And that once you let that fear take over, you just kept digging yourself deeper.” She paused. “You were going to tell me when we went to the Storm Coast, weren’t you? You were going to confess and tell me the truth.”

Blackwall nodded, a shamed look on his face. “I was. I truly was. But you were standing there, looking at me holding the Warden-Constable’s badge, like I was someone worthy of such a thing and I…” He looked away. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to see you look at me like I was scum. So I lied again.”

“I can forgive you for that,” she said, cradling his face with her hand and making him look at her. “You were afraid and fear makes us do stupid things. So I can forgive you.” She chewed on her bottom lip until he touched it with one finger, a habit he’d picked up because she was so prone to doing that and it murdered her lips. She smiled a little at the thought then sobered again. “I can forgive you but trust? That’s going to take more time.”

He nodded but this time he met her eyes. “I… I know. I betrayed your trust and I must earn it back.” He frowned a little. “But… if you can’t trust me, why… why allow me…” He gestured towards the bed and the two of them.

She gave a small, slightly helpless smile. “Because I love you. And I need you. Everything… everything that happened hasn’t changed that. Maybe it’s made the love a bit wiser, less innocent. But it’s still there.”

Blackwall swallowed hard and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t know that I deserve your love.”

“It’s not about whether you deserve it or not,” she replied. “It’s yours. My heart is yours. The question is will you try and break it again? Will you try and discard it again?”

“Never,” he said fervently. “I was a fool, my lady. I thought it would be easier. I thought… I thought if I just disappeared, you’d think I’d… died in battle or something. You’d never know about… about me. I…” He sighed. “I wasn’t thinking at all, just… reacting.”

Tegan stared at him for a long moment then she shook her head. “You’re an idiot, you know that? Don’t ever do that to me again. Never. I was so out of sorts I nearly had Cassandra mother-henning me and that’s just scary.”

Blackwall gave a tiny breath of a laugh. “I’ll only leave your side now if you order me to, love.”

She drew in a sharp breath, her mood shifting mercurially. “Call me that again.”

Blackwall stared at her blankly as he ran through what he’d just said. His eyes widened and he breathed, “Love.”

She shoved her hands into his hair. “Do you love me?”

He made an inarticulate sound. “More than words can say.”

“Tell me.”

“I love you, Tegan.”

“Again.”

“I love you.” He captured her lips in a rough desperate kiss that made her moan. “I love you.”


End file.
